


Get Out Of Jail!

by septici



Category: The Resident (TV 2018)
Genre: Kink Negotiation, M/M, conrad wants to fuck devon, consensual cheating, devon is into it......, i didnt want to push priya to the side, kinda.., set during season 1, so she's in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 06:19:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19847341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/septici/pseuds/septici
Summary: “Who’s your ‘get out of jail free’ card?”Devon had no idea how they ended up here. He had just been enjoying his life, figuring out how to block Irving on LinkedIn (seriously, the dude had resorted to sending him a picture of a 1.5l coke bottle jammed up someone’s ass on LinkedIn). Then, of course, Irving had figured out he had been blocked and stormed down to confront him with Conrad in tow - presumably to watch, revel in, and laugh at Devon’s misery. So, seriously, it had been a pretty average day. He supposed, though, that he can’t be too surprised that the topic of conversation shifted from various objects lodged in various rectums to sexual escapades, however, Devon was reluctant to admit that his only partner in bed had been Priya, so he stayed quiet. Out of it. Like an engaged man with good values should. But Conrad, ever difficult, ever annoying, ever-present, had decided that that simply wouldn’t fly, and Devon needed to tell him the answer to his question right now.“Mine would be you.”





	Get Out Of Jail!

**Author's Note:**

> bradley isnt dead in this because i dont care lol

“Who’s your ‘get out of jail free’ card?”

Devon had no idea how they ended up here. He had just been enjoying his life, figuring out how to block Irving on LinkedIn (seriously, the dude had resorted to sending him a picture of a 1.5l coke bottle jammed up someone’s ass on LinkedIn). Then, of course, Irving had figured out he had been blocked and stormed down to confront him with Conrad in tow - presumably to watch, revel in, and laugh at Devon’s misery. So, seriously, it had been a pretty average day. He supposed, though, that he can’t be too surprised that the topic of conversation shifted from various objects lodged in various rectums to sexual escapades, however, Devon was reluctant to admit that his only partner in bed had been Priya, so he stayed quiet. Out of it. Like an engaged man with good values should. But Conrad, ever difficult, ever annoying, ever-present, had decided that that simply wouldn’t fly, and Devon needed to tell him the answer to his question right now. 

Speaking of which…

“My what?” Devon turned his head up from his phone like he hadn’t been listening the whole time, the perfect picture of confusion painted on his face. He pulled his eyebrows in a tighter knit just to sell his bemusement even more. Conrad’s eyebrows raised slowly, disbelief clouding his big brown eyes - of course, he was arrogant enough to assume Devon had been listening to him and Irving talk. Regardless of whether that was true or not, hot indignation rose on Devon’s cheeks, colouring them slightly pink under his brown complexion.

“‘Get out of jail free’ card,” Conrad repeated slowly as if explaining a simple concept to a child. Devon’s face went even more red as he studied his counterpart, a small glare appearing on his features; no matter how many times he heard Conrad use that tone on him, he always despised it. “It’s someone you can sleep with, and not get in trouble with your partner for doing so.” Oh, right. Devon rolled his eyes as if the idea was absurd.

“I don’t have, nor do I want to have, a ‘get out of jail free’ card with Priya,” he stated in return - simple, short, sweet. To the point. Devon turned his head down to his phone again, uninterested in where the conversation was going next. He didn’t want them to start picking apart his relationship. He was perfectly fine and happy with his fiancée.

“Shame. Mine with Nic was always Mina.” 

As if summoned by some greater power, Mina put her head around the doorframe. 

“I heard that. Get your ass down to the ER before I put you there myself.” Devon smirked, typing out a short text to Priya - something sappy about soulmates or whatever. “You too, Pravesh.” ...Yikes. No joking around today.

\---

“Priya,” Devon started, falling back on the couch with his laptop held securely in both hands. She acknowledged him with a distracted hum from the kitchen, pouring food out for a yapping Jellybean. “Do we have ‘get out of jail free’ cards?”

“...Like, from Monopoly?” Priya put her head around the doorway, frowning at Devon. He avoided the searching gaze, opening something on his laptop just to look busy.

“No, like… someone we can sleep with and it’s mutually agreed neither of us will mind.”

“I suppose we don’t,” she replied thoughtfully, padding over from the kitchen to join him on the couch. “I’ve never felt the need to have something like that. There’s nobody I know more attractive than you.” Devon lit up in a grin, tilting his head back to receive a cute, domestic, chasté kiss from her.

“Who would yours be, if we did have them?” He closed the lid of his laptop, abandoning all pretense that he was ever doing anything on it and settling into the couch with one arm slung lazily around her shoulders. She was silent for a moment, turning on the TV. It let off a soft slurring noise as it started up, and Priya seemed to be jogged back to the present moment.

“Ah… Matthew, from the office.” She turned to him, settling her head on his collarbone and watching the TV screen blankly, though more like she was seeing past it than seeing nothing at all. “He’s shorter than you, blonde hair, grey eyes… Very pretty man.” Priya lifted her head upwards to watch Devon’s face instead. The question on her face was silent, though not rhetorical, and Devon knew if he didn’t answer, she was going to press.

“I don’t think I have an answer to that. Anyone else would say Noni or Nic, but they don’t particularly interest me,” Devon hummed, finally meeting Priya’s eye. “Not that anyone interests me as much as you do, of course.” Devon knew the man Priya was referring to, and, well... “Can I pick Matthew, as well?” 

Priya snorted, and the two of them devolved into happy, lovesick giggles. Matthew was long forgotten later that night, along with Conrad’s Mr. Moneybags style cards, when Devon pressed Priya into their bed with a slew of promising kisses that bode good things in future times.

\---

“My card is Bradley,” Mina admitted after almost ten minutes’ worth of constant pressuring by Conrad and Irving to give up the ghost. Devon was stood in the doorway of the breakroom, in complete disbelief that this topic had not been dropped yet. “However, I can only actually have a card if I’m in a relationship. Which, I am not. Bother Devon.” As she turned to leave if any of them caught the crimson blush rising on her cheeks, nobody says anything - out of fear or respect, though, is up to the reader’s discretion. Irving’s pager sounded, cutting through the now silent breakroom, and he excused himself quietly, sliding past Devon to leave.

“Devon.” Conrad immediately rounded on him, grinning wolfishly. Devon shot a look over his shoulder at Irving’s retreating form wistfully. He hoped that the same higher power that allowed Mina to embarrass Conrad yesterday allowed him out of whatever hell his boss is about to unleash on him to gain information that doesn’t exist. “I’m not buying this ‘I don’t have one’ bullshit.”

“I don’t,” was Devon’s simple reply, and it’s not a lie. He quite literally didn’t, unless you count Matthew, which… well, Conrad wouldn’t have, he wanted it to be someone from Chastain so he could feel in the loop on some non-existent gossip. And also probably so that he could tell them to embarrass him.

“You do. Everyone does.” Devon rolled his eyes again, just as his pager sounded in his pocket. Thank God. He turned around to leave the breakroom with a scoff, and could almost have been convinced that he hallucinated Conrad’s next line:

“Mine would be you, now.”

Devon swallowed around a suddenly dry throat, heading down to the ER at a slightly faster rate than necessary. He fretted over what Conrad meant for a moment before realisation stabbed through his chest like a stalactite: he didn’t. Of course, Conrad was just playing another fucking joke on him. Devon frowned, the coldness spreading through every nerve in his body, even down to his extremities, as he rounded the corner to face Irving.

“I have someone else with a broken weiner!” he announced happily. Devon grunted his annoyance, but, truthfully, was more than happy to welcome the distraction of work.

\---

In his own opinion, Devon wasn’t avoiding Conrad, per se. He couldn’t physically do that, because Conrad was his resident, and he has to listen to him and assist him on rounds. That didn’t mean, however, that he was being particularly friendly to Conrad, or that he was making an effort outside of purely work-based scenarios to interact with him. He’d turned down five invitations to join Conrad, Mina and Nic at the local bar in two days - not that all of those came from Conrad, but still. He wasn’t even fully conscious that he was doing it most of the time, but Conrad was. Conrad definitely was, and it was annoying

He couldn’t believe that Devon was flat out ignoring him over... what? A stupid, mildly inappropriate comment? The point of a ‘get out of jail free’ card was, in Conrad’s not-so-humble opinion, that there was consent involved all around, and no actual cheating involved. It was like an open relationship, but only for one specific person and with an expiry date of one-time use only, unless something else had been agreed. If Devon didn’t understand that, then he should have spoken to Conrad like a mature adult, and not avoided him like a child.

Of course, this was the seventh time Nic had heard this exact monologue, and at this point, she did not care. She wanted Conrad to leave her alone so that she could get on with her shift and then go the fuck home to whatever warm bath or bed or body was waiting for her.

“Conrad. Please just go talk to him. And get out of the nurses’ station, we’re working here,” she scolded, again for the seventh time. He grumbled something unintelligible and turned on his heel, grabbing an iPad on his way out of the station. The other nurses were already giggling and gossiping - some of them had themselves convinced that Devon and Conrad were a ~thing~ now. Nic could scoff a the idea - as if Devon was secure enough to admit he found another man attractive.

\---

“You locked me in an on-call room,” Devon stated through the door. It sounded almost like a question but was not phrased like one. Nic smiled to herself - she was clever sometimes. “You locked me in an on-call room with Conrad because…?” That was a question.

“Because, and I quote ‘we’re both massive man-babies who need to talk’,” Conrad repeated, leaning against the wall furthest from the door. He had a sour look on his face, but he always did when he was near his intern, Devon supposed. He turned his back to the door, watching Conrad warily. Nic bode them an overly cheery farewell through the door and disappeared to care for patients. Both Devon and Conrad were supposed to be sleeping in an on-call anyway, so it wasn’t like anyone was going to come searching for them - although, Conrad never usually slept in these, and Devon hadn’t trusted them much since his first experience.

“We do not need to talk,” he refuted, watching Conrad from across the room. “There’s nothing to talk about. You made a joke. End of story.” Conrad rolled his eyes, letting his arms drop down to his sides from where they had been folded across his chest.

“It wasn’t a joke, it was an observation.” Devon scoffed, rolling his eyes. Conrad made a warning sound, low in his throat. Devon’s entire face went red almost immediately, and he found himself unable to tear his eyes away from Conrad. “It was an observation of a fact. If I was in a relationship right now, my ‘get out of jail free’ card would be you.”

“Why?” A lame question and they both knew it, but somehow it still hung heavily in the air above their heads. Conrad took a deep breath and ignored every neon flashing sign in his brain saying ‘DO NOT PROCEED’.

“Because I would want to sleep with you,” he drawled in a ‘duh’ tone, rolling his own eyes for effect.

“Would?” It’s not what Devon meant to say, and it’s not what Conrad expected to hear. The two of them stayed in stunned silence for a moment, before the lock of the on-call room’s door clicked loudly. Devon jumped out of the way, and all but bolted around the door as Doctor Coburn, a promising second-year ER resident, made his way in. Conrad gave him a polite nod and pressed his lips together, stalking out in the opposite direction.

\---

“... Mine would be Conrad,” he panted into her shoulder, breathless at his admission.

“Your ‘get out of jail’ card?”

“Yeah.”

“I already knew that.”

\---

Devon traced his finger around the rim of his whiskey, watching Mina kick Irving’s ass at pool. The three of them had agreed to go out for drinks - well, originally four with Priya’s plan to tag along, but she had suddenly been ‘busy’ at the office. A certain text told Devon that Matthew may or may not have been involved. He wasn’t pouting, per se, he just wasn’t prepared to third-wheel tonight. Not even in the romantic sense, just in the sense that Mina and Irving had known each other longer and had a deeper relationship with each other than either of them had with Devon. Devon was the weakest link in the chain, and so he stayed at the booth, by himself, drinking whiskey.

He couldn’t stop thinking about what he had told Priya and the conversation that followed his admission. Devon couldn’t believe that he now had ‘get out of jail free’ cards with his fiancée. It’s not a thought he ever would have entertained; Priya was more than enough for him. He had never wanted anything more, until very recently.

Speaking of ‘very recently’, he had just walked into the bar, wearing a soft-looking leather jacket and a simple cotton tee. He hadn’t trimmed his facial hair in a couple of days, so the typical blonde slightly-longer-than-stubble that stuttered around his jaw and mouth was looking more like a proper beard. Devon’s throat was dry again. He lifted his whiskey glass and turned away, burning the dryness right out of his oesophagus.

“Devon,” Conrad nodded in greeting, sliding right up next to him in the booth despite any protests Devon could have made if he wanted to. He settled for a half-hearted strange look but allowed Conrad to initiate several points of contact along their thighs and shoulders. Devon was acutely aware of all of them, something he hadn’t felt since he first met Priya.

“Hello,” Devon muttered lamely, finishing the last dregs of his whiskey. It had only just then occurred to him that he had forgotten to reply. There was a moment of silence between them before Devon decided to throw caution to the wind - if Conrad wanted to know so desperately, then he could know. “Update on the cards.”

“Hmm?” Conrad tilted his head up, sipping from a bottle of beer. His large doe eyes were settled on Devon’s face, trailing over all his features like he was trying to commit them to memory. The air between them felt heavier somehow, thick with some strange emotion.

“I have one now.”

“Yeah?” Devon hated that Conrad sounded breathless, wrecked even. “Who?”

“You.”

**Author's Note:**

> argjrsdjgldkj um........ sorry to be a tease but like? kudos + comment if u wld read another chapter of this drivel,,?


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